


Unlikely

by Little_Lady_Bug



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, Post 4x22, Speculation, Talking, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 07:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11054094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Lady_Bug/pseuds/Little_Lady_Bug
Summary: Against all odds, and because of a glove, they became friends.Well, not exactly friends, because, technically, they were not supposed to be talking.





	Unlikely

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, that was the first fic I've ever written in english, so... Be nice...  
> And by "nice", I mean tell me about everything I messed up, so i can fix it!

"Where is your better half?"

It took him a second to realize that the question was directed at him. He put his glove back quickly, before turning around.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be wearing his wedding band, or taking off the glove, but, having lost the damn thing in the locker room three times already… Well, it was reason enough for him to overlook those particular rules.

The woman was behind him, apparently at arm’s reach, if it wasn’t for the invisible wall he knew was there.

"Pretty sure I’m not supposed to talk to you."

The sound that came from her resembled a laugh, but had no humor in it. After that, she went back to work, and he went back to doing nothing and checking if his wedding band was still there. Part of him was damn sure McCarter had something to do with the missing ones. Guy’s a douchebag…

 

x-x-x

 

"You know, you are the only guard I ever see remove a glove."

This time, it wasn’t a question, but a statement. But it was the same women, in the same spot, and received the same answer.

 

x-x-x

 

"I remember your previous answers, but I’m really curious about the glove thing…?"

Ok, now he was unsure. Was it a question? Her voice did kind of go up in the end…

None of the others had tried talking to him. To tell the truth, he was starting to get curious about her insistence. But that truth would not be told today.

"This time I checked. Really can’t talk to you."

This time, she smiled.

"Well, you’ve done it three times already. Might as well continue…"

He had no answer to that.

 

x-x-x

 

"I have a theory. A hypothesis, really. At first I thought you had some kind of allergy to the glove material."

“But then, after you had taken off only the left glove for the tenth time, I started to think that it had something to do with that one specifically. Do you want to hear my new hypothesis?”

Yes, he did.

"No. And I can’t talk to you."

That earned him another smile. A knowing one. Come on! He was a decent liar, he knew he was…

 

x-x-x

 

"Fine! What’s your theory?"

He swore to himself he wouldn’t make that question. But he really wanted to know if she knew about the missing rings, if one of the other guards was using her to mess with him. It had all appearance of being a trap, a prank, and he knew. So, if he knew, technically, he wouldn’t have been caught, right? It didn’t count. Right?

"I think you miss her. I think you keep staring at your wedding band because you miss your spouse."

He chuckled.

"No, I don’t. Your theory was wrong."

"Hypothesis."

"Same thing."

"No, they are not. A simple idea is a hypothesis. Said hypothesis must be submitted to a series of trials in order to become a theory. I tested my hypothesis, and, according to you, it was incorrect."

He was mildly confused. So he went for the easy answer.

"Still not supposed to be talking to you."

 

x-x-x

 

"Ok. New hypothesis."

That was starting to be ridiculous. He had not take the damn glove off in front of her in weeks.

"What is it?"

"I think you are getting a divorce. I think your marriage is ending, and that makes you stare at your wedding band longingly."

"I’m doing no such thing! My marriage is perfectly fine, thank you very much."

She ignored him.

"What is it? Is it lack of communication? Too much work? Infidelity?"

Now she was getting irritating.

"Infide… Excuse you?! You know nothing of my marriage! We are fine! There is no infidelity in my house!"

"Is it really? Or is that what you keep telling yourself as you stare at the ring?"

"It really is! I love my wife very much, and she loves me!"

They were almost shouting now, weren’t they? And talking really fast.

"And yet, you don’t miss her when you are apart!"

"Of course I miss her when we are apart, don’t be ridiculous!"

"Then why don’t you miss her right now?"

"Because she is two stores up!"

Oops.

"So, she’s here. Is she a guard?"

"This conversation is over!"

What was the deal with that woman? Was she some kind of interrogator?

"Not a guard? Are you telling me you are married to one of the…"

"Of course not!" He interrupted "Of course she is a guard! And a damn fine one, overlooking everything in that damn floor!"

Crap!

No wonder he was such a bad liar! Apparently, what he thought, you knew!

"And I’m not supposed to be talking to you!"

 

x-x-x

 

"You know what I’ve been thinking? I don’t know your name. You are the only person I’ve talked to in the last, what? Three, four months? And I don’t know your name."

This time, he just sighed.

 

x-x-x

 

"I have a confession to you, John."

That was new.

"Who the hell is John? An imaginary friend?"

She laughed.

"No, silly! You are John!" That made him look at her. She was smiling "Since you refuse to tell me your name, I decided to give you one myself. I like John. Is simple, common, and suits you."

That sounded offensive.

"Simple AND common! Thank you so much."

You could smell the sarcasm, and she looked apologetic.

"Oh! That’s not what I meant at all! I’m so sorry! Is just that those helmets cover a lot of you face, and is very difficult to decide which name would suit you better with only your eyes, nose and mouth as reference! So I just choose a generic name!"

Ok, he could let that slip.

"Why do you even need to give me a name? I can’t talk to you, remember?"

All the other times they had _not_ talked (because he was _not_ supposed to be talking to her!), that statement had been able to shut her up. Today, though, it didn’t work. She just ignored it completely.

"Because is awfully annoying to talk to your friends, when you don’t know their names!"

The word “friend” made him turn and stare at her.

She looked perfectly normal, even though what she just said was absolutely mental!

 _Friends?!_ They weren’t _friends!_ He was a guard who wasn’t supposed to be talking to that woman in the first place!

"You annoyed me a handful of times in the past few months, despite the fact that you know I can’t talk to you, and now we are friends? Are you mental?"

"You are the only person who I annoyed in the past few months."

Suddenly, he pitied her. It must get really lonely in the other side of that wall, without being able to talk to anybody. And, really, if they weren’t supposed to talk to the guards at all, why don’t make the walls soundproof?

Maybe it wasn’t his place to question their decisions, but he had been talking to her quite a lot, if he was to be honest, and nobody had said anything, even though there were cameras everywhere.

Even if the cameras didn’t record sounds (which he wasn’t entirely sure was true), it was obvious to whoever watched the videos that they had been chatting.

They knew that he had been talking to her, and nobody had said anything.

_What the hell._

"Cal." He said. He had been quiet for a little while, and she had gone back to work, so when he finally talked, it startled her a little. Then she processed what he said and smiled.

"Cal." She repeated, testing the sound.

"It’s Callahan, actually. But everybody calls me Cal."

That made her laugh a little bit, and it sounded good. Having just being reminded of how lonely she was in there, he realized that she probably had few to no opportunities to laugh. And everybody deserved a laugh every once in a while.

"Well," she continued "it’s very nice to finally, properly meet you, Cal. I’m…"

"Jemma Simmons." He interrupted.

That surprised her. He couldn’t understand why. But her surprise lasted less than a minute.

"You know who I am. Of course you do."

"Of course I do."

They exchange a little smile. Then she continued.

"So, Cal, what exactly do you know about me?"

He had to think a little.

"Jemma Simmons, bio-chemist, attended S.H.I.E.L.D Academy at a remarkable young age, two PhDs…"

"So," she interrupted "you read my file. I assume you read all of our files."

He just shrugged.

 _Obviously_ , he thought.

So she continued.

"If you read my file, then you know me on paper. You know what I have accomplished as a scientist, you know what I have studied or invented. But that doesn’t mean you know me, Cal. We are friends now, and friends know a little more than just what a file says. They now each other stories, and hopes, and  dreams.

“We are new friends, so I’m not going to expect that you tell me your whole life, or all of your dreams, but I think we ought to talk about our lives outside of paper, don’t you think?”

He was starting to get suspicious. She was nice and polite, as he had been programmed to expect from an English woman. Her pleasant and kind ways were starting to make him think that a friend to talk to might not be the only thing she was looking for.

He was getting suspicious and she noticed.

"I know what you are thinking, Cal. You think I have an ulterior motive."

"Do you?"

She gave him a little smile.

"Maybe. But I’ve tried the tactic of telling everything at once and it backfired. It bought more bad then good, to all parties involved. I promise you, though, that I don’t have the desire to harm or upset anyone. Right now, I think I just need to talk."

He had to think about that for a moment.

She sounded sincere. And for someone so small, and young, she also sounded very tired. He took a second to look at her. Long brown hair, pale skin, small complexion. But what made his mind were her eyes. She was somehow younger and older when you looked solely in her eyes. Tired, sad, hopeful. It looked like she could really use a friend.

"Yeah," he said, almost whispering "maybe we will talk."

 

x-x-x

 

"I realized something."

She lifted her eyes to the sound of his voice and gave him a smile.

"Oh, hello, Cal! How are you today?"

He returned the smile.

"I’m fine, Jemma, thank you."

"You are very welcome! But do tell! What have you realized?"

"The last time we talked, when you called me simple and common." She opened her mouth to interrupt him, and explain and apologize again, but his light smile told her he was kidding. He thought it had been a long time since someone did that to her, and she seemed to appreciate it once she understood, so he continued. "You were going to make me a confession. Do you remember? You said 'I have a confession to make'."

She thought for a while, but soon she looked like she recalled what he was talking about.

"Yes. I remember. Do you want to know what I was going to say, Cal?"

He looked at her, a little suspicious. Where was she going with that? The words “ulterior motive” came back to his head.

"Sure."

She was still smiling.

"Then I will tell you. But first, you have to answer a question of mine."

That didn’t sound good.

"Look, Jemma, I will not tell you anything about…"

"No!" She interrupted, alarmed "Cal, I would never ask you that!"

That relaxed him a little.

"Ok, then. What do you want to know?"

Her smile returned.

"Tell me about your wife."

An involuntary smile appeared on his face on the mention of Sarah, which made Jemma’s even bigger. After that, his intention of questioning why _he_ had to answer first vanished.

"You already told me that you love her, and when we love something, we want to talk about it. Talk about her, Cal."

Now he wasn’t suspicious, just curious.

"Why?"

"Because love makes everything better. Trust me. I know."

Now he was curious about that statement. But he would ask her in time. For now, he would focus on her question.

"What exactly you want to know about her. Make me one question. I’ll answer, and then you can answer mine."

That way he could control the exact amount of information he would share with her.

"Ok. When did you know that you loved her?"

That question bought back beautiful memories, and he had to take a moment to absolve them all over again, before speaking.

"We had been on exactly seven dates. Seven proper dates, I mean. Seven dinner or movies or drinks kind of dates. It was the simplest of the moments. We had just had dinner, and we were walking back to the car. It was her car, because my roommate of the time had stupidly smashed his own in a tree and borrowed mine without exactly asking. He just left me a note and took my keys.

“So we were walking to her car, and she walked toward the passenger seat and I thought ‘oh, she wants me to drive’, but I was wrong. She opened the door for me and whispered 'milord…' Then she looked at me with her big brown eyes and the brightest of the smiles.

“She was so proud of herself, I couldn’t help but laugh. She had her hair up, but some of it had escaped, and was on her cheek, so I put it behind her ear and look right into her eyes before I gave her a light kiss.

“That’s when I knew. Looking at her shinning eyes, in a deserted street, while she held the car’s door open to me. I knew in that moment that I would love that woman for the rest of my life.”

He hadn’t meant for it to be like that. He was just so fond of that story, that he couldn’t tell it any other way. It took him a second to remember Jemma. It took him two to see her tears.

"Are you crying?" He worried he had upset her "Why are you crying? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…"

"No!" She finally was able to say "Don’t apologize, please! I’m just being silly, it was a beautiful story! I guess I’ve just been here too long…"

He could tell she was holding something back, but the woman was already crying! He wasn’t about to make things worst!

"Ok. Sorry I made you cry. Maybe we could get back to my question?"

She seemed happy to change the subject.

"Of course. My confession." She took a moment to take a deep breath and focus, before continuing. "Well, it’s not much of a confession, actually. Is just something I though you should know."

He nodded for her to go on, afraid that, if he spoke, he would make her cry again.

"The first time we talked. I had already been here for little less than a month by then. I’m not used to being alone, it drives me mad. I’m used to have someone by my side at all times, and spending so much time away from him is what is really draining all my forces.

“I tried talking to other guards. I tried striking up conversations with a lot of them. But they would refuse me, just like you did, and I wouldn’t insist.”

"But you insisted with me." He interrupted. She gave him a sad smile.

"Yes. The moment I realized you kept taking your glove off to stare at your wedding ring.

“That is what I wanted to confess. I just insisted on talking to you, because I wanted to know the history behind that ring. Or, more precisely, the story behind the love that granted you that ring.”

He looked down at his gloved hand.

"Do you want to know? The real reason I keep staring at it?"

"Next time."

They exchange a smile, and he knew that it was over. For now. But booth had something to look for: a friendly conversation.

 

x-x-x

 "Since you answered first last time, I’m going to let you start today."

He gave her a sarcastic smile and a sarcastic answer, but he knew she could feel the humor underneath.

"How very generous of you, Miss Simmons! My question is very simple: the guy you talked about, the one you can’t stand to be away from. Who is he?"

She laughed briefly.

"Now, now, my friend. I thought we had agreed on specific questions?"

"We did?"

"Yes, we did!"

Her tone was playful, but it let no room for questions. So he just smiled and reformulated his question.

"The guy you talked about yesterday, how do you love him?"

He was very proud of himself for that question. He phased it perfectly, to get as much information as possible. And she seemed pleased too.

"He’s my best friend. Has been for over a decade. My partner, the one I trust the most, no matter what.

“He is my home. When I’m with him… Is where I really belong. My heart aches for not been able to be with him, which, as a biologist, I know makes no sense, but… It just feels that way.

“He is also the love of my life. Even if I never see him again, though my whole body rejects the mere idea of it, but… Even if it happens, my love for him will never lessen.

“Again, as a biologist, my body rejecting it makes no sense, but… You get the idea, right?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle.

"Yes, I get it. Where is he?"

It was her turn to laugh, even through the tears.

"Nice try, buddy."

"Right. You go, then."

She had the question in the tip of her tongue, and it was not the question he was expecting.

"How did you propose?"

He made a funny face. He knew it was funny, because she laughed. She had been laughing a lot since this nonsense started, and he was keen in keep it up. It was all he could do.

"That was not a good idea. I’m afraid you just wasted your question on no story at all…"

"Ow, come on! Humor me!"

"Humor is kind of the key word here…"

That made her curious.

"We had been together for a little over a year when I bought that damn thing! But we had been together for almost two when she finally found it in my socks drawer…"

Her eyes widened.

"No. Freaking. Way!"

"I was panicking, ok?" Even to his ears, he sounded defensive. Which was kind of logical, since he felt defensive… "What was I supposed to do, how was I supposed to say, when, where…"

He was talking really fast now, so he was glad when she interrupted.

"Wait, wait, wait… You didn’t propose? She found the ring almost a year after you bought it and still before you propose?"

He looked equally amused and embarrassed.

"I was so afraid, that I kept postponing it and coming up with new ways to do it, from simply kneeling down at dinner, from renting a plane to write it on the sky…"

She frowned at that.

"You were afraid? Why?"

He thought about counting that as another question, but in the end, he just explained.

"I knew she loved me, I was positive that I loved her. But, yeah. I was afraid. I was ready to commit the rest of my life to her, to be with her forever, grow old together, all that stuff. That is always a difficult thing to ask. It kind of puts you on the spotlight in front of the one person who matters most. Is impossible not to be afraid…"

She was crying again. But it wasn’t the soft tears from last time. She was actually sobbing now.

"Jemma! Oh, my… How am I doing this? How am I upsetting you so much without meaning to?"

Part of him wanted to hug her, even though he knew it was impossible. She looked so small, so alone. He waited until she spoke again, trying to respect her pain.

"I’m sorry, Cal." She managed to say, a few minutes later "I didn’t mean to break down like that, I’m really sorry…"

"It’s ok." He interrupted. "Will you say what that was about?"

She managed a sad smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Next time."

 

x-x-x

 

"Today, I was thinking about doing thinks a little different, Cal, if you don’t mind."

It had been long enough since their last conversation for her to recover, but he still saw sorrow in her eyes. So he decided he would agree to whatever she suggested.

By then, he had figured out who she was talking about. He felt kind of stupid, having taken so long to realize it. He had read all of their files, he knew they were partners in the lab, he should have know we she first talked about love and a constant company.

But ever since their conversations started, he had become so focused on her, he had forgotten about the rest of them, even though he saw them just as frequently as he saw her.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, today, you tell me all about your wife. And next time, I will tell you all about Fitz."

 _Leopold Fitz. Y_ eah. He had been right.

"So, no more questions?"

"Oh, I will have questions! And you will answer all of them, just like I will tell you all you want to know about me and Fitz next time."

When she said that, it hit him. He had absolutely no reason to be doing this. _He_ was not isolated from nobody. _He_ was not lonely. He saw Sarah every day, and slept by her side every night.

_Why am I doing this?_

"Maybe," he said, instead "maybe we just don’t talk today."

He turned around, and pretended not to notice the hurt and confusion in her eyes.

 

x-x-x

 

That night, Cal told Sarah about Jemma.

She knew that they were talking, but not much more. (After all, you don’t just start having frequent conversations with a random woman and don’t tell your wife! That’s, like, recipe for a disaster!). That night, however, he told her everything.

How she started talking to him. How he had tried to avoid her, but she had been able to catch his curiosity with her theories, or hypotheses, or whatever.

He told Sarah about the stories he had told Jemma, about how they had talked about her and the love he felt for her, and about the love Jemma felt for Fitz.

He told her he had no idea why he had been so invested in that impossible friendship, but something in her eyes had made him want to console her. He broke the rules to help a woman he barely knew, because of the love he saw on her eyes.

At the end, Sarah just smiled at him. She put her hands on his face and kissed him deeply.

That night, she loved him. Even though they were not supposed to have sexual relations while there. It was against the rules, but they did it anyway.

It was not until the morning, that Sarah talked about what he had told her, her naked body still entangled with his.

"You are a good man, Steve Callahan. You know why I fell in love with you? Because you love like no one else. You care, like no one else.

“You are a romantic. Jemma said something bad about us, and you had to show her just how wrong she was. She gave you an opportunity to talk about love, to talk about me, and you took it.

 “And you are a helper, a caretaker. You saw someone in pain, and you couldn’t not help. You couldn’t.

 “So, keep going. Tell her about me, about us, about our lives together. Because she needs to hear it. Then listen to her, listen about her Fitz, because she needs to say it.

“This is a hard place, Steve. That doesn’t mean it has to make you hard too. I love you, just the way you are. I don’t need you to change, I don’t want you to change. But if you have to change, don’t worry. I will love the new you, too.”

 

x-x-x

 

"So, I met Sarah when I was 25 years old."

Her head snapped up when he started talking. He could see the surprise in her eyes was the one thing surpassing the joy. She didn’t say anything, didn’t ask what had happened. So he just continued.

"My roommate from college married her older sister. I missed the rehearsal dinner, because it was my mother’s birthday, so we only met at the wedding... She was wearing a typical ugly bridesmaid dress, a weird shade of purple that shouldn’t suit anyone, but I though she looked beautiful.

“The first time a saw her, she was walking down the aisle, among other girls, all dressed the same way, so I didn’t even look twice.

“After that, I saw her at the main table, with the rest of the family, and I thought she had a beautiful smile. At her toast, I loved her sense of humor. At the dancefloor, I though she looked so free and happy. She caught the bouquet. By the end of the party I was mesmerized.

“I thought I had no chance with a girl like her, so I didn’t even try. But apparently, just because I wasn’t talking to her, it didn’t mean that I wasn’t staring like a creep without even noticing.

“Michael, the groom, was the one who forced me to ask her to dance. So I did, certain she would laugh at my face. Only she didn’t. She said yes.

“Well, technically, she said 'why not', but…" That made she chuckle, so he smiled "But you get the idea.

“We dance for a while, talking the entire time. Until someone else asked her to dance. I was shocked when she refused, and continue to dance with me instead. Took her to dinner the next day.

“One years and ten months after that, the thing with the ring happened. I asked her to help me find my tie clip. Didn’t notice the drawer she was looking at until it was too late. That was nothing left to do, but explain how scared I was. She laughed at my face, called me a stupid coward, kissed me, and made me put the ring on her finger. It was the best day of my life to that date.

“We got married eight months later. Simple ceremony, sunset. I cried, she looked like a princess or a goddess.

“Ben came two years later. Had her eyes, but everything else was apparently mine. He is almost six now, staying with my mom while we work.

“We started working together, and the only reason we accepted the job, was because we would be here together. There’s no way I would be this far away from home without Sarah. She is my everything.”

When it looked like he was through, she asked in a small voice.

"Where is home?"

He gave her a little smile.

"Sarah is home. Our house is in Montana."

It was all she asked.

 

x-x-x

 

"You’ve read my file, so I don’t have to be humble with you, right?"

It was an interesting to way to start a conversation. He chuckled.

"Yeah, I think we can both admit that you are pretty smart."

“'Pretty' smart?" She tried to sound offended, but her smile was still there. "Cal, I’m what you can call a 'certified genius'! Youngest S.H.I.E.LD. Academy Cadet, graduated top of my class; not one, but two PhDs…" She had to stop to breath. After a moment, her voice was calmer, and her smile was softer. "But… At the same time, thinking back, I can’t help feeling stupid.

“How could I not know? Right from the start, how could I not know that I would end up falling in love with him? How could I be so stupid, to think that it was possible to spend so much time next to someone so remarkable… And not fall in love? Did I really expect to be friends with the smartest, most interesting, handsome, selfless, kind man I’ve ever met, for a decade and not fall in love?”

"Wait, wait…" He interrupted "Did you just say a decade?!"

She looked slightly confused.

"Yes, I did. Give or take a year or two."

"You were friends with the guy for ten years before you fall in love?"

"No…" Now he was confused. "I was friends with the guy for ten years before we get together. If I’m being honest, and without meaning to quote Jane Austen, I have no idea when it actually happened. One moment I just knew I couldn’t live without him, and in the next, I knew I loved him."

He smiled.

"I’m under the impression this story will take a while."

At that moment, she just returned his smile, before continuing.

 

x-x-x

 

He was right. It took her a few more encounters to recount the tale of Fitzsimmons.

At a certain point, he started wondering if maybe she wasn’t spending a little more time on the details than it was strictly necessary. But after that, he found that he didn’t mind.

It was a beautiful, sad story. She deserved to tell it. She deserved to remember.

Because, for now, all she had was the memories.

 

x-x-x

 

At first, she thought she was dreaming. She had had that dream before. Many, many times. But when she saw Cal, on the other side of the invisible wall, with a small smile directed at her, and his arm around a female form she had never seen before, I hit her.

It was real. It was really happening.

"Jemma…"

Her name sound like a prayer in his lips, and made her knees tremble. She got closer to him, slowly. Part of her wanted to run, part of her knew her legs probably couldn’t , and part of her was afraid she was going to run into an invisible wall, like she had done many times when she first arrived.

But she found no wall. Instead, she found his warm shaking form. She hugged him tightly, her body remembering exactly how she fitted in his embrace.

She heard her own sobbing, more than she felt the tears. She was unaware of much, except for his body, his smell, his voice, saying her mane repeatly, like a chant, like he also couldn’t believe.

She knew he still felt guilt, still felt like she couldn’t or shouldn’t forgive him. But in that moment, it simply didn’t matter. For either of them.

She felt when they hit the floor, kneeling, even though she didn’t remember the exact moment her legs gave out, still entangled in each other, both still crying. It took her a few more moments until she was finally able to back away just enough so she could see his face. One more time, she was amazed by his beautiful blue eyes, like she had been so many times before.

"Hi…"

He chucked, a mix of happiness and disbelief.

"Hi, Jemma…"

Their lips met. First, it was sweet and light, like they still weren’t sure they were imagining the whole thing. But they recognized each other’s taste, and they recognized the way they felt when they touched and kissed each other. And suddenly everything was so familiar, after so much unfamiliar, that the urgency and the longing took over. The kiss became clumsy. The fell of his tongue on hers, licking her mouth, was even better them she remembered, if that was even possible. The crying made them need air sooner than they would have liked. (Granted, they would have like to never need to breathe again, so they could just stay like that forever.)

"I missed you so much, Fitz…" she whispered, against his lips.

"Me too… I missed you so bloody much…"

And they were kissing again. She pushed him lightly, until he was sitting back on the floor, and moved so she could straddle him. Then she was hugging him tight, her thighs pressing his hips, never stopping the kiss, his hands firm on her back. After a few more minutes, they were able to look at each other again.

"How is that even possible? How are you here?"

He chuckled and looked over to the couple on the other side of the wall.

"She showed up. Said I had to come with her. I thought I was going to die, or something. Instead they bring me here, and tell me to wait for you. I didn’t believe them until I saw you pass through the door…"

She kissed him again, for a few long seconds, before turning to Cal and, presumably, Sarah.

 _Thank you,_ she mouthed. Cal simply winked, putting both arms firmly around his wife, as Fitzsimmons turned their attention back towards each other.

 

x-x-x

 

He stood there, observing them for a while. Fitz couldn’t stay long, and they couldn’t be out of their sights while together. Technically, they weren’t supposed to talk to each other.

But so much that wasn’t supposed to happen had happened already, maybe those two were entitled a few kisses and hugs. He was going to make sure they didn’t discuss anything they couldn’t.

"If they behave," Sarah whispered "we could try and make this a regular thing. Allow them to see each other from time to time."

They were definitely making that a regular thing! Those two were going to see each other regularly, even if it was just for a few minutes, or his name wasn’t Steve Callahan.

So, for the next few minutes, he was just going to hug the love of his life, while Fitzsimmons did the same.

Just for a few minutes.

Half an hour, tops.

Maybe an hour?

**Author's Note:**

> So... Any thoughts?  
> (Since we don't actually know if they are in a prison, or even if they really are in space, I chose not to address it...)


End file.
